SESSION 11
Dr. Kim watched Noeul for a moment before speaking. “You’ve talked a lot about protecting Ji-Woo from Gong. I’d like to understand when that responsibility started to become yours.”
Noeul lowered his gaze to his hands. “I think it happened gradually. But there’s one conversation I remember very clearly.”
“What do you remember first?”
He took a slow breath. “The kitchen smelled faintly of coffee when I walked in. My parents were sitting at the table. Their faces were worn with exhaustion, their eyes darkened by too many sleepless nights. I could tell they’d been talking for a while.
Their voices carried a familiar mixture of worry and resignation.
“I stopped in the doorway, unnoticed at first, listening.”
“What were they talking about?”
“Gong, of course. That was all we talked about anymore.”
“What did you hear?”
“My mother said, ‘I just don’t know what else to do, Seojun.’ Her voice was barely holding. She looked drained. The light that usually lived in her eyes had dulled under the weight of everything that had happened.”
“And your father?”
“He rubbed his temples and sighed. Then he said, ‘I’m tired of having the same conversation over and over. There’s nothing wrong with Gong. He’s struggling with puberty. If we give him time, he’ll come around.’”
“What did you do when you heard that?”
“I knew I had to step in. I was worried about Ji-Woo, about what Gong’s episodes were doing to him. Anxiety twisted in my stomach, but I spoke anyway.
“I said, ‘Of course something is wrong with Gong. How can you be the only one who doesn’t see it? We need to take him to a doctor. Dad, his episodes are getting worse. We can’t keep putting Ji-Woo in the middle of this.’”
“How did he respond?”
“He snapped at me. ‘What are you talking about? There’s nothing wrong with Gong. Stop speaking badly about your brother.’”
“What did his refusal feel like?”
“Frustrating. It was as if naming it would somehow make it real. As if pretending not to see it would make it disappear.
“I pressed my hand against the table. My voice came out louder than I intended. ‘Dad, why can’t you accept it? It won’t disappear just because we pretend not to see it. Gong is sick.’
“But he kept shaking his head, refusing to meet my eyes.”
“What were you afraid would happen if he continued denying it?”
Noeul’s fingers tightened around each other. “I was afraid Ji-Woo would get hurt. I told him, ‘We can’t keep Ji-Woo away from home forever. And we can’t let him see Gong like this. It isn’t fair to him. Gong could be a danger to Ji-Woo.’”
“How did your mother react?”
“She reached across the table and placed her hand over Dad’s.”
“Did she say anything?”
“No.” His voice quieted. “She left me alone in that fight.”
Dr. Kim leaned forward slightly. “You remember that part very clearly.”
Noeul nodded.
“What did you need from your mother at that moment?”
The question seemed to catch him off guard. “I don’t know. For her to say something, I suppose. Anything.”
“To support you?”
“…Yes.”
“And when she didn’t?”
“I felt alone.”
Dr. Kim allowed a brief silence before asking, “What had made you believe Ji-Woo needed to be away from home?”
Noeul’s expression changed. “Something happened the night before that conversation.”
“What happened?”
“I woke up sometime after midnight. I don’t remember why. The apartment was dark, and everyone else was asleep. When I stepped into the hallway, I saw Gong standing outside Ji-Woo’s room.”
“What was he doing?”
“Nothing. He was just standing in the doorway, watching Ji-Woo sleep.”
Dr. Kim waited. “Was he holding something?”
Noeul’s fingers tightened around each other. “A rope.”
“A rope?”
“It hung from his hand, one end brushing against the floor. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t even blinking.” Noeul swallowed. “I said his name, but he didn’t answer at first.”
“What did you do?”
“I walked toward him slowly. I asked what he was doing in Ji-Woo’s room.”
“Did he answer?”
“He said, ‘He needs to be protected.’”
“From whom?”
“I asked him the same thing. He looked at me and whispered, ‘From them.’”
A chill passed through Noeul at the memory.
“I didn’t know what he intended to do with the rope. That was the worst part. I told him I would protect Ji-Woo and held out my hand. For a few seconds, Gong refused to give it to me. Then he let go and returned to his room.”
“Did you wake your parents?”
“No.” Shame entered his voice. “I should have. But I already knew what my father would say. That Gong was tired. That I was imagining things. That everything was normal.”
“What did you do instead?”
“I sat outside Ji-Woo’s room until morning with the rope beside me.” He lowered his eyes. “That was when I knew Ji-Woo couldn’t stay there. Not until we understood what was happening to Gong.”
“What did you suggest to your parents?”
“That Aunt Min-Seo could pick Ji-Woo up after school. At least until we found the right treatment for Gong. He could stay there in the afternoons, do his homework, eat something. That way, he wouldn’t be home during the worst hours.”
“Did your father agree?”
“Not immediately. His brow creased as he considered it. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.” Noeul looked away. “He knew. He just couldn’t say it.
“‘Every day?’ he asked at last. ‘For how long?’
“I told him, ‘Only until we find the right treatment for Gong.’ My voice trembled despite my effort to steady it. ‘We don’t have another choice. Ji-Woo has already seen too much. He’s starting to be afraid of his own brother. We can’t allow that.’”
“What did you feel while you were saying it?”
“Guilty.”
“Because you wanted to send Ji-Woo away?”
Noeul shook his head. “No.”
“Then what were you guilty about?”
“Talking about Gong as if he was dangerous.” He swallowed. “I knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose. I just…” He searched for the right words. “…I didn’t know how to keep both of them safe anymore.”
“Did recognizing that Gong could be dangerous feel like a betrayal of him?”
Noeul hesitated. “Yes.”
“Even though you were trying to protect Ji-Woo?”
“Yes.”
“So either choice felt like betraying one of your brothers.”
Noeul looked at her. For a moment, he said nothing.
“Yes,” he whispered. “I suppose it did.”
“What did you believe Ji-Woo was losing because of what was happening at home?”
Noeul took another breath. “He shouldn’t have been witnessing any of it. He should’ve been thinking about school, his drawings, our hikes, or the games we played after dinner. Not why his older brother screamed. Not why Gong’s moods changed without warning.”
“What did your father say?”
“He sighed again. His shoulders slumped, defeated but not convinced. Then he said, ‘You’re wrong. Everything is normal. Gong and Ji-Woo never got along. But Gong would never hurt him.’”
“And how did you respond?”
“‘How can you be so blind?’ The words escaped before I could stop them. ‘Do you want to wait until he hurts Ji-Woo before admitting he needs help? Please. I don’t know how much longer I can protect him. Gong gets more violent with every episode.’
“Then I told them, ‘Aunt Min-Seo will understand. She always said she’s here to help. Ji-Woo loves being with her and our cousins. He’ll be safer there than here, at the center of all this.’”
“Did your mother agree?”
“She nodded. No relief crossed her face. Only sadness.” Noeul lowered his gaze. “The same sadness settling inside me.
“She said, ‘We’ll talk to him tonight. After dinner. We’ll make it sound like something fun, so he won’t feel like we’re sending him away.’
“My throat tightened. I knew it was the right decision. We were going to tell him it was a game.
“But for him, for me, for all of us, nothing felt like a game anymore.”
Silence settled over Dr. Kim’s office.
After a moment, she spoke. “You said something important just now.”
Noeul looked up.
“You said, ‘I don’t know how much longer I can protect him.’ Who did you mean?”
Noeul frowned. “Ji-Woo.”
“What were you trying to do for Gong?”
The question made him hesitate. “Get him treatment.”
“Why?”
“Because he needed help.”
“And what did you believe would happen if he didn’t receive it?”
Noeul looked away. “He would get worse. He might hurt Ji-Woo.” His voice lowered. “Or himself.”
“So were you only trying to protect Ji-Woo?”
Noeul’s chest tightened.
“…Both.” The answer came almost immediately. “I think…” His voice grew quieter. “I think I was already trying to save both of them.”
Dr. Kim studied him. “How old were you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Sixteen,” she repeated softly. “And you believed keeping both of your brothers safe was your responsibility.”
Noeul didn’t answer.